


The Broken Hearts Club

by Valkyriav



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Ships are not romanticized or considered healthy, Unlucky romance trio, drinking buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 11:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10853010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyriav/pseuds/Valkyriav
Summary: Varric, Hawke, and Lavellan go to The Hanged Man after the Inquisition's disbandment and bond over their terrible luck with love.





	1. Chapter 1

It had only been a few months since Inquisitor Lavellan angrily disbanded the Inquisition and walked out on the Exalted Council. Varric regretted not being present to see the looks on the nobles' faces. He was able to get a retelling of the events out of Cassandra, though she did not spice up the details as much as he would have liked.

Before Varric had to return to Kirkwall to reassume his viscount duties he approached Levellan and reminded her that her new estate and title as a comtesse was still waiting for her back in Hightown. She promised she would come one day with a strained smile upon her face. She said she still had to take care of cleanly disbanding the Inquisition itself. Declaring it at a council meeting does not take care of the finer details needed. People needed to be alerted; messages needed to be sent to those dispatched around Thedas; Inquisition supplies needed to find a new home.

In the meantime, Varric and Hawke still worked towards rebuilding Kirkwall, not only from the Mage Rebellion, but also from Sebastian's invasion attempt. Thankfully Aveline's resistance (with the help of the Inquisition) was able to push back the Starkhaven forces back to where they belonged.

Varric did not hear a word from Levellan for months until he one day received a letter said she would arrive within the week. In that time Varric made sure to hire a few people to dust her estate and fill it with furniture to make it as welcoming as possible. He might have gone a bit overboard with the furniture though; a lot of it was a bit too lacy and Orlaisian for his tastes and he suspected the former Inquisitor would agree. She was Dalish after all; like Merrill, he was sure that she was perfectly comfortable sleeping on the ground.

When Varric's informants told him that Lavellan arrived at Kirkwall's gates that evening, he made the trip over to welcome her in. As soon as Lavellan caught his eyes, she hopped off her hart with a gracefulness that impressed Varric for someone missing their left arm, and then led her mount on its reigns over to him. She greeted him with a smile, but Varric could still see the weariness in her eyes that had not left her since the Exalted Council. Varric promised to give her a private tour of the city later as he lead them to Lavellan's estate in Hightown. While she was here he promised to introduce her to Merrill, since the two of them both used to be First to their respective clan's Keeper. Varric figured talking to another Dalish might help brighten the spirits of the presently aloof Lavellan.

When they arrived, Lavellan's eyes widened at the size of the estate. Varric smirked at her reaction, once again pleased with the powers he could abuse as viscount. He invited Lavellan to come eat a ridiculously expensive dinner with him to celebrate her arrival but she politely declined, saying she needed the rest. Varric could then see the weariness not only in her eyes, but in her posture. As Inquisitor, Lavellan's posture and gaze was strong and sharp, like the Inquisition itself. Now her gaze was distant and lowered, and the staff on her back seemed to weigh her down.

Lavellan looked like she needed a drink.

Before Lavellan could close the door and isolate herself for the rest of the day, Varric stuck his foot in the door. Lavellan looked down at the dwarf, with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, Varric?"

"If you won't join me for dinner tonight, then tomorrow night you'll join me and Hawke at the Hanged Man for a drink," Varric stated.

"Do I not have a choice in the matter?" Lavellan asked, the corners of her mouth were subtly upturned in amusement.

"That is correct. Don't make me abuse my viscount powers further and make the city guards escort you there," Varric smirked. "I'm sure I could even get the Guard-Captain herself to do it."

Varric knew that last bit was a lie. There was no way he could convince Aveline to do something so trivial for him, but Lavellan did not know that.

The elf chuckled. "Alright, Varric. I'll be there then. No need for guards."

"Perfect. Have a nice evening, Inquisit—" Varric stopped himself, then rubbed the stubble on his chin as he studied Lavellan in front of him. "Hm, perhaps I should call you something else now since you're no longer an Inquisitor."

"You can call me by my first name, Ellana," Lavellan suggested.

"If I do that, Hawke would get jealous and I don't want that. I still don't call her 'Marian' even after all these years. I don't have a nickname for you either, so 'Lavellan' will do for now," Varric decided.

Lavellan looked unamused, but did not protest it. "I guess Lavellan is better than getting a nickname I dislike."

"Definitely, because nobody gets vetoing power over my nickname choices."

_Okay, other than Hawke,_ Varric thought. _Only because my suggestions didn't fit._ During their adventure involving Tallis, Varric had tried a few nicknames for Hawke. Waffles, Chuckles, Killer... none of them worked, though Chuckles worked perfectly for Solas later on.

"So I've noticed," Lavellan said, smiling. Her eyes became distant for a second; Varric imagined she was thinking back fondly to their Inquisition days.

"Anyway, I hope you don't mind the lacy pillows. My chest hair always finds some way to get tangled in them. Damn Orlaisians always favor fashion over comfort. I'll catch you later, Lavellan."

"Goodnight, Varric."

Varric gave a small wave before Lavellan shut the door.

_She definitely needs a drink,_ Varric thought.

When Varric returned to his lavish viscount estate, he found an unmarked letter addressed to him. When he opened it up he immediately recognized the handwriting. His heart skipped a beat. It was from Bianca.

_Well, shit. I'm going to need a drink too._


	2. Chapter 2

The next evening, Varric and Hawke headed over to Lavellan's estate. Varric banged the elaborate door knocker, which was in the shape of a hart's head. Within a few moments Lavellan answered the door.

"Lavellan, glad to see you haven't run off!" Varric exclaimed.

Lavellan smiled, nodding a greeting at the two of them. "Of course not. I'm very interested in visiting those key landmarks in your Tale of the Champion, the Hanged Man being one of them."

Hawke eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I'm pretty sure I haven't started drinking yet, but I'm seeing things. What happened to your vallaslin? Merrill assured me that it was very permanent."

Lavellan blinked in surprise, taken aback. "I...I'd prefer not to speak of it."

Varric elbowed Hawke to get her to cut it out, but due to his height his elbow hit her hip bone which caused him to hit his funny bone. His nerves flared up in protest and he did his best not to let out a yelp.

Lavellan's eyes had darkened, and an awkward silence filled the air between the three of them.

Thankfully Hawke found a way to recover the situation while Varric's mind was too distracted by the uncomfortable tingling nerves in his arm. "I understand. Then what are we all waiting around for? I've been dying to get a drink all day and dilly-dallying around here is the exact opposite of what I want to do right now. We can chat at the bar."

"Agreed." Lavellan stepped outside of her house, closing the door behind her. The dark cloud that had appeared over the elf had seemingly disappeared for now. Varric let out a sigh of relief.

Hawke lead the way as she always did around Kirkwall. It was nostalgic for Varric to follow her rather than Lavellan. Hawke usually had a confident strut while Lavellan usually held herself with grace. Now both of them seemed to lack the energy to maintain their own signature composure. Perhaps Hawke was not lying and she did need a drink as badly as Lavellan did.

"Here we are! The famous Hanged Man!" Hawke did an exaggerated hand motion to the indistinct building in front of them, save for the giant, upside down statue of a man that hung above the entrance.

Lavellan stared at the statue, bemused.

Varric noticed the look on the elf's face. "Don't worry, the inside isn't as tacky as the statue. It just needed something to stand out since all the other buildings in this city look the same. Visitors often get lost because of it. Hawke and I are working on a plan to paint the buildings different colors so we won't have that problem anymore. Even if you do know where you're going in Kirkwall, the buildings get kind of boring to look at anyway."

Hawke nodded in agreement.

"That sounds like a great plan. I've found my way around Thedas without getting lost, but this city seems impossible to navigate," Lavellan frowned, glancing around the other surrounding buildings.

"Stick by me and Hawke, and you'll be fine," Varric reassured. "Now come on, let's go inside. Drinks are on the viscount!"

"You might regret that decision when you get the bill, Varric," Hawke smirked, as she held open the door for the dwarf and elf.

"Ha, don't try and talk big, Hawke. You're a lightweight if I remember correctly," Varric grinned as he passed through the door, Lavellan following quietly behind. "Do I need to remind you of that one time when—"

"No you don't need to remind me," Hawke interrupted, her eyes suddenly darting around the room.

"If you say so," Varric said playfully.

Lavellan snickered. "I feel as though I am intruding on a date between you too."

"Don't worry, we're strictly platonic. I don't think she could handle my chest hair anyway," Varric jested.

Hawke scoffed. "If it offended me I could fry it off with a simple spell. Don't tempt me."

Varric covered his chest protectively with his hands. "You wouldn't dare!" he gasped.

When the bartender saw them his eyes glinted with recognition. "Varric! Hawke!" he greeted.

The three of them took a seat at a table. Even after all the years Varric had been here, and with all the crazy shit Kirkwall had gone through, the Hanged Man consistently stayed the same rundown bar it always has been, and that was comforting to him. The same tattered curtains hung from the ceilings, the holes in the wooden floorboards were still there, and hell, even the dried bloodstains in the middle of the floor was still there from a nasty bar fight he could barely remember due to all the booze in his system at the time. Even the table they were sitting at had the same wobble to it due to its uneven legs.

"Three ales over here!" Varric called over to the bartender.

Lavellan glanced around the bar. Varric could see the disappointment in her eyes. "So...this is the famous Hanged Man? No offense Varric, but it's kind of..."

"A shit hole?" Varric finished.

"I was going to put it nicer, but yes."

"I like it that way. Less people show up here and everyone minds their own business, mostly. The nicer bars are usually full of snobbish, rich nobles flaunting their wealth around."

"Wouldn't you classify as one of them now?"

"Hey! I may flaunt the wealth around but I'm not snobby."

Hawke coughed to hide a laugh. Lavellan gave Varric an impish smile. The bartender approached their table and set down the ales without a word before heading back to his place behind the bar.

Hawke immediately grabbed her mug and drank deeply. She let out a satisfied sigh before turning her attention to Lavellan, who was sipping cautiously on her drink. "So, Inquisitor—or what shall I call you now?"

"Ellana, or Lavellan works too."

"Ellana." Hawke tried out the name on her tongue. "It feels too informal to call you that. I'll stick to Lavellan."

Varric watched the two women chat. It seemed like his name choice for Lavellan was going to stick. It was not too odd for people to be called by their surname; Hawke was a prime example of that, and even Rainier, who formally went by the surname Blackwall, did so. Though Rainier it was most understandable; Thom is his his boring real name, and as Blackwall it would have been Gordon. Varric felt pity towards the real Blackwall for having such an unfortunate name. Marian was not that bad of a name though, and either was Ellana. Hawke embraced her surname with pride. Lavellan was different in that regards, but as Varric had said, he could not pick favorites between the two most powerful women in Thedas in recent years (since the disappearance of the Hero of Ferelden). If he picked favorites, he was sure he would end up roasted by one of the mages.

Hawke continued. "So what have you been up to since the Inquisition's disbandment?" She eyed Lavellan's missing arm briefly, but thankfully she did not question the elf about it.

Lavellan's eyes darkened once again as she stared into her mug. "I can't talk about it due those that could be listening, but it involves stopping Solas, no matter the cost." Her voice came out as almost a whisper when she spoke the bald elf's name.

Varric eyed her with sympathy. Lavellan's former romance with Solas was no secret to him. While they did not publicly declare it, it was obvious to those in their inner circle what was going on between them. The drawn out gazes towards each other, the proximity in which they stood next to each other, the tenderness in their voices when they spoke to one another... those were only a few of the many clues Varric picked up on. Hell, they did not even deny their relationship when one of their teammates spoke to them directly about it.

 _Thinking about romance is reminding me of that damn letter,_ Varric thought. _I don't want to have to think about that now._ He took a large swig of his mug, welcoming the burning sensation in the back of his throat.

Hawke's eyes softened. Varric had told her everything. "If you need me to be a part of it, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Hawke," Lavellan said. "That means a lot. I will consider your offer."

Hawke smiled warmly in response.

Lavellan glanced between the human and dwarf, looking to change the subject. "What about you two? All I know is that Varric is the viscount and that Hawke helps him out. What are the fun details?"

Varric grinned. "Glad you asked! I don't know about Hawke, but I get bored of all the politics and paperwork involved. Last month we had gotten a report of a Starkhaven spy—damned Choir Boy still thinks we hold the secret to where Blondie hides—and to spice things up, I decided to take care of things myself rather than sitting on my ass and letting someone else take care of the fun part. I gather up those us of left in Kirkwall—Hawke, Daisy, and Aveline—and tell them we're going to send our old friend a personal message."

Varric caught a flash of pain of either anger or sorrow in Hawke's eyes due to the mention of Anders, no doubt. Or, perhaps it was a mixture of both. Lavellan looked like she was thinking hard, probably trying to fit the nickname with the right person. Hawke downed the rest of her drink and held up three fingers. In no time the bartender returned with a new round for all of them.

Varric continued. "If he was wise he would have stuck to Darktown, but all Starkhavens are too pretentious to allow themselves to wade around in the filth. Instead he decided to rent a room right up the stairs of this very bar. The owner had funnily enough placed him in my old room."

"What a terrible spy," Lavellan commented.

Varric eyed Hawke, she was now smiling while politely listening. "So he wasn't there when we arrived. The room stunk of incense so bad I had to hold my nose. Looked like he couldn't handle the Lowtown stench. We dug through all his little Chantry knick-knacks—a sure sign of a Starkhaven citizen—and found that at this time he liked to visit the Blooming Rose."

Hawke was grinning now, knowing what was next.

"Now we could have waited until he came back and ambushed him, but that would have been boring. Who could resist busting a devout Andrastian during his brothel visit? So the gang and I storm into the brothel. Madam Lusine starting screaming at us but after waving my new viscount position, Hawke's Champion status, and Aveline's job as Guard-Captain, her mouth immediately snapped shut. We get her tell us which room the spy was in and then we all line up beside the door. I was going to go for a more subtle approach but Aveline immediately kicked down the door with her sword drawn. She was probably still a bit bitter from Choir Boy's invasion. High pitched screams erupted from the room. Daisy's eyes' bulged out of her head and Aveline's face turned even redder than her hair. What sort of scene did we stumble upon, you might ask?" Varric paused for dramatic effect, grinning ear-to-ear. "We found the spy completely naked, tied up against the bedpost, with a scantily clad whore dressed up suspiciously like Andraste. 'Andraste' had a whip in one hand, and a qunari pleasure toy in the other."

Lavellan sputtered out some of her ale. "How could you tell it was qunari?" Lavellan asked after regaining her composure.

Varric scratched his stubble. "One time Rivaini, Hawke, and I stumbled across a washed up qunari supply chest out on the Wounded Coast. No one knew what the strange objects were other than Rivaini who told us more about them than I ever wanted to know. She ended up taking some for herself while she was at it."

"Finish the original story, Varric," Hawke reminded, giggling.

"Alright, alright. So the spy and 'Andraste' are staring at us, and us back at them. Then Hawke breaks the silence and says 'I didn't know the Blooming Rose did confessionals now too.' ...No one seemed to appreciate that joke but me at the time."

Hawke raised her mug in acknowledgement.

"Anyway, the spy realized he's been caught and started thrashing about, but there was no way he was going to escape the ropes knotted by such an experienced... professional. Now, I'm not sure if either the bed frame was that rotten or he had super strength, but he was able to snap the bedposts off, taking a big chunk of the headboard with him. Then suddenly I have this naked guy charging right at me, swinging the headboard around like a morning star by the ropes still tied to his hands. So like the quick-witted hero I am, I aimed Bianca at him and pinned his hand to the wall."

"That's not what happened!" Hawke declared. "You stood there with your mouth agape while Aveline saved you."

"Okay, I lied. Aveline stepped in front of me and bashed her shield in the guy's face, knocking him out cold. I like my version better though."

Lavellan simply smirked and rolled her eyes. "So he attacked four fully armed people like that while naked?"

"Well," Hawke said, "Varric was standing in front of the door and he didn't have any other options. Maybe he was just trying to scare Varric out of the way."

"That makes sense," Lavellan nodded.

"So I tip 'Andraste' enough for a bed replacement and a little extra for having to witness that before we drag this naked guy to prison. ...None of us wanted to try and dress him while he was unconscious so we had quite a few stares while we transported him there. When he finally awoke he found himself chained to a very sturdy wall with very sturdy chains, with nothing but a small towel over his lap to cushion his dignity. He immediately started blubbering 'Please don't kill me! I'll tell you everything you want to know!' He tells us everything, including stuff I didn't want to know, but the relevant stuff was nothing revealing. It seemed like the poor excuse of a spy was taking a vacation here more than he was spying. Hawke and I then tell him that we want him to personally deliver a message to the prince of Starkhaven himself. 'Tell your prince that if we catch another spy in Kirkwall we'll return them by catapulting them over Starkhaven's walls. If he's still so interested in Kirkwall, he can come visit us personally. He'll get a chance to get real close with Bianca.' The guy is already shaking, but for good measure, I tell him if he doesn't fulfill his end of the deal we'll send a letter to his wife back home about the activities he had been up to here. Then we kicked him out of the city, with nothing more than the towel around his waist. I haven't found any new spies since."

"They could have gotten better," Lavellan pointed out.

"Maybe," Hawke shrugged. "Even if we did have more they're not going to find the information they're looking for."

"That's certainly...quite the story, Varric," Lavellan said, half-smiling.

"Thank you." Varric swished the ale around in her mug before downing it. After talking for so long his throat was feeling parched. He was already starting to feel a buzz.

"So, how are things between you and Bianca?" Lavellan asked slowly. "The real Bianca, I mean. Things were tense between you two the last time we all met."

Varric choked on his ale. "Well, uh..."

Hawke banged her hands on the table and her eyes shot wide open. "You've met Bianca and I've barely even heard of her?" Her eyes then flashed to Varric, with a jealous scowl on her face.

Shit, Varric thought.

Lavellan glanced back and forth between Hawke and Varric, taken aback. "I-I'm sorry, was that something that I wasn't supposed to talk about?"

"Varric, if she gets to know, I get to know too," Hawke declared.

"Fine, I'll tell you the details later, Hawke. But to answer your question, Lavellan..." Varric's expression turned melancholy. "Not so well. She's still married to that guy in the Smith caste, as expected. She's been sending me letters insisting I visit, but like I told you, if we're within three hundred leagues of each other the Merchant Guild would freeze my assets and then have me killed."

Hawke's expression turned horrified. Lavellan watched Varric with pity. A swirl of strong emotions suddenly surged in Varric as the two women stared at him, feelings that he had pushed back in his mind and hoped to forget. He blamed the alcohol for breaking down his defenses. He could have stopped there and said no more, but he had to finally vent after these seventeen years.

"I don't know why I still care," Varric laughed bitterly. "She's just an ex-flame of mine. Our relationship was simply ruined by an arranged marriage. Most people can just cut their losses and move on, yet I haven't. She finally seems content with her marriage yet she still sends me letters, and I can't help but write back. We meet sometimes, at risk to my life, and it feels like all she does is string me along, asking for favors sweetened up with flirting." Varric tightly clenched his hand around his mug. "I know what she's doing but I can't help but go along with it. She's still as brave, intelligent, and beautiful as she was before, but... fuck." He sighed. "All common sense goes out the window when I see her."

Hawke's expression turned dark. "I know how that is," Hawke said softly. Her eyes were filled with sympathy and understanding. Varric felt her steady gaze pierce past his defenses. It made him feel exposed and vulnerable, and he hated it, even if it was by the one person he could trust the most. Lavellan thankfully was looking away; her eyes unfocused as she stared at her mug.

Varric looked away from Hawke's eyes but he still felt her gaze burning into him. "I received another letter from her the other day asking to meet again."

"Don't do it," Lavellan objected.

"I'm not looking for advice. I already know what I should do, and being told it by someone else won't help either. Sorry, Lavellan." Varric took another gulp of ale.

"Varric, you one time warned me about Anders before we started getting serious. I should have listened to you back then. Don't make the same mistake I did," Hawke said, her voice thick with regret.

"I... I know," Varric insisted. "This is different though." Varric did not quite believe the words that came out of his mouth.

"She's using you like Anders used me," Hawke said, her voice slurring slightly. The alcohol was hitting her fast, as usual.

Varric finally looked back to Hawke to see the hurt behind her eyes, and the pleading expression on her face that did not want her best friend to suffer the same fate as her. Varric sighed. "You're not wrong."

"Solas used me as well, to fix his mistake," Lavellan muttered.

"Yeah, Bianca did that to us as well with that red lyrium thaig. Shit, I still can't believe Bianca was responsible for Corypheus' red lyrium supply. So much pain and death could have been prevented if the red templars didn't have access to that damn thaig." Varric then looked up at Lavellan and Hawke. "Though I'm not the worst offender here. Blondie used you, Hawke, to purposely blew up the Chantry and caused the bloodbath that was the Mage-Templar War." Hawke's jaw tightened. "Chuckles was responsible for giving you, Lavellan, the mark, then had you fix his mistake and took your hand afterwards. And now he's planning to destroy Thedas as we know it." Lavellan flinched.

"Only problem is that you're the only one of us still communicating with your ex-lover," Hawke huffed.

"And continuing to do so might lead to your death," Lavellan added.

"I guess you two are right about that," Varric submitted. His mouth then tightened. "Perhaps this time I will ignore her letters this time, for good. I don't think I can fully forgive her for her screw up with the thaig. Hell, I already can't forgive myself for giving it to her in the first place. Maybe if she took responsibility for it, I could, but..." Varric's voice trailed off. He suddenly felt very self-conscious, which was a very unfamiliar feeling to him. "I think that's enough of my problems for now."

Varric glanced at Hawke and Lavellan. The two of them both looked sullen. I knew I shouldn't have started talking about love problems, Varric thought.

After a moment of silence between the three of them, Hawke spoke up. "I spoke with Aveline today. I must have irritated her or she was in a bad mood because she rambled on about how I was partially responsible for both the Mage-Templar War, and the Starkhaven invasion she had to repel. 'If you did not blindly trust your abomination lover and helped him sneak into the Chantry, none of this would have happened,' she said."

Varric gasped. "Aveline actually said that?"

Hawke nodded. She propped an elbow on the table and rested her head in her hand, digging fingers in her hair. "She immediately apologized after she said it. What she said was true though." Hawke smiled bitterly. "I trusted Anders blindly. I was naive. I romanticized us as two lover apostates in hiding from the oppressive Templars, wishing for the day we did not have to fear being taken away. How idiotic, right?"

Hawke glanced up at Lavellan and Varric with her bitter smile, as though waiting for one of them to agree with her. Lavellan remained silent. Varric placed a supportive hand on Hawke's back. Varric opened his mouth to say something, but Hawke continued.

"He was so charismatic and handsome too. The passion he had for the mages' plight was admirable, and it spoke to me as a fellow apostate. I wanted to help him with his goal. I even helped him write his manifesto. I remember the nights where he would read his newest drafts to me..." Hawke's voice wavered. She quickly cleared her throat to regain her composure.

"Hawke..." Varric murmured.

"I knew what he was. Everyone warned me to not get too close to him, even Anders himself warned me. But after three years of dancing around the issue, the temptation was too strong. Everyone knows that when you tell someone they can't have something, they just want it more. Perhaps everyone should have given me their blessing instead and maybe then things would have been different," Hawke jested halfheartedly.

Varric remembered watching Anders and Hawke together in those early years. They were always flirting, sometimes subtly, with a seductive smirk or a light touch, or otherwise more obviously with a suggestive tease they would play off as a joke. Always they were stealing glances at each other, always side-by-side, and chatting away with lovesick smiles stuck on their faces. Varric could not deny the chemistry the two of them had. If it was not for the whole abomination thing, Varric would have been okay with their relationship. Hawke got Anders to stop brooding over mages as much after all, though the tradeoff was trying not to hurl over the shameless flirting that replaced the brooding.

Even with Varric's warning, he was not surprised to see Hawke and Anders eventually became an item after three years, and the moody rebel mage had moved in with Hawke. Varric decided to drop the issue with Hawke because she was a big girl who could take care of herself and any troubles her abomination boyfriend gave her. Or so he thought.

"He was a romantic, and I was a sucker for that. Justice wasn't a problem. But as the years went by Justice crept more and more into Anders, where it became harder to tell the two apart. He stopped smiling as often, and never was in the mood to joke. All he ever talked about about freeing the mages to the point of fanaticism. The real Justice would sometimes intrude if our arguments got too heated. Justice thought I was a distraction that Anders needed to get rid of, and he made sure to let me know."

Varric could attest what Hawke was saying. He too remembered Anders slowly becoming less receptive to his jokes and the lighthearted games they would play. They would play a fun, but dark game where they would pick a terrible person and try to pick the perfect way for them to die. Boiling in oil, trapped in a cave full of hungry bears, dipped in gold and displayed as a statue in the Viscount's Keep... those were favorites of Varric's, and two of them had been ones Anders had made up. It was very cathartic game for both of them. Eventually Anders seemingly grew a stick up his ass and would immediately shut down Varric's jokes and games.

"It started to escalate to more than I could handle... I started losing hope in our relationship and Anders' mental wellbeing... Then one day he told me he had a cure. He found a way to separate him and Justice and he needed my help. I jumped at the chance. Then he said he needed one last thing: help sneaking into the Chantry. I did it without question. I assumed he needed something from the Chantry for his potion that he could not normally get so I thought it would be okay. But it was all a fucking lie," Hawke hissed. "He took advantage of my love and desperation to save him and our relationship. Then he blew up the Chantry and he was fully expecting me to kill him right then and there. I'm sure he even wanted me to so he could be a martyr and escape the consequences of what he had done." Hawke's voice was shaking with anger as her eyes watered. She hastily wiped away a tear.

Varric remained quiet. With every lull of silence Hawke kept on venting out more about Anders. He had not ever heard Hawke go into such detail about her relationship with Anders before, especially with such raw emotion. He could hear the betrayal in her voice; the one wound that had still not healed.

Hawke continued. "He was surprised that I didn't kill him. I made him come with us to fix what he had done. Right before the final battle, Anders wanted me to come with him while on the run. I refused. Not after using me like that and killing those innocent people in the Chantry. Perhaps it's selfish for me to say, but it hurt that he shrugged it off with such casualness, and instead made his response to be about mage freedom. I fully knew then that the Anders I loved was completely swallowed up by Justice." Hawke then bitterly laughed. "And even after that, perhaps I should be grateful. What he did made me no longer have to fear for my freedom as an apostate. Same goes for Merrill and all other mages across Thedas."

"What Blondie did to you is unforgivable," Varric spat. The dwarf could feel his blood boiling. "He didn't fully appreciate the amazing woman you are, Hawke. I hope that whatever he is right now, he is wallowing in regret and guilt for thinking he could manipulate and use you like that and expect you to forgive him so easily."

Lavellan shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Have you forgiven him at all, Hawke? After all this time?"

Hawke's eyes darted over to the elf, uncertainty flashing across them. "I... I don't know. I haven't seen him since the night we killed Knight-Commander Meredith. He wisely disappeared after that battle. Every time I think of him I'm filled with such pain and resentment. But if I saw him in person I'm not sure if I would want to punch him or kiss him."

 _So she still has some feelings left for him, even after all he's done and how much he's changed,_ Varric thought, disappointed. _Who am I to judge though?_

"I see," Lavellan sighed. Her eyes were distant, as though thinking of something. "I only ask because I am in a similar situation." The former Inquisitor hesitated before continuing. "Solas... he had lied to me about his identity and his true motivations. We were... romantically involved during the Inquisition."

Varric and Hawke nodded, both of them familiar with the two elves' relationship.

Lavellan took in a shaky breath. "I admired his infinite source of knowledge about the elves and the Fade, especially as the Keeper's First. Keepers and their apprentices are supposed to be wise and knowledgeable so we can pass down wisdom to the rest of the clan. Solas... he held himself with such confidence and composure. Speaking to him was a delight. Not only did I admire him, he admired me. We both regarded each other with such mutual respect, and eventually love."

Varric remembered seeing the two of them always talking deeply about something. They kept themselves at a distance to remain private, whether that walking around the bordering forest around Haven, or the battlements at Skyhold. It was the only time Varric saw what he would regard as a genuine smile on Solas' face that was not the insincere, polite smile he always wore around the others in the Inquisition. From his favorite place by the fireplace, Varric would often see Lavellan visit Solas' room to watch him paint his mural. Or, at least that was the excuse she always used.

Lavellan looked to Hawke. "Then one night he brought me to a private place and he told me my vallaslin were slave markings, so he removed them for me."

Hawke's eyes widened, then glanced to Varric. "Should we tell Merrill?"

Varric shook his head. "It's better she not know. I couldn't handle seeing the pain on her face."

"Everything was perfect during that night, until his joy suddenly turned to remorse and he left me there, telling me we could not be without any explanation, no matter how much I pleaded. When I confronted him days later about it, he simply told me to use the pain and reform it into focus for the Inquisition's success. I spent many nights lying awake in bed, hurting, wondering why our loving relationship was not meant to be. After Corypheus' defeat, he told me what was between us was real, with such sorrow I did not understand, and then he disappeared without a word from my life for two years."

It's good to see Lavellan finally opening up too, Varric thought.

"Then at the Exalted Council, after defeating the Viddasala's saarebas, I passed through the final eluvian to hear Solas' voice again after those two years. I raced toward his voice, my heart beating wildly in my chest, and my hand burning. He turned the Viddasala to stone without a single gesture, and turned to me, and he tell me he is the Dread Wolf, Fen'harel. How ironic for the Keeper's First to have been Fen'harel's lover," Lavellan smirked darkly. "The Keeper and their First are supposed to be protect the clan from Fen'harel and here I was unknowingly in love with him. What a terrible First I've been."

"Ironic indeed," Hawke agreed.

"Then he told me that the events at the Conclave were his doing. All those people who had died, and the tear in the Veil... It was because he allowed Corypheus to use the orb. I was an accident, the Anchor was supposed to be Solas' so he could tear down the Veil. So he guided me—or manipulated—however you wish to see it, to fix his mistake so he could properly tear down the Veil in one go later. I was in disbelief. He wants to destroy this world and me in it, even if I had shown him it had worth, so he could return it to how it once was. Like you, Hawke, it hurt that I was nothing in comparison to his goals. Then he took my hand, just to give me a few years of life as though that excused him of what he planned to do, and then left me there alone once again."

"I'm sorry, Lavellan," Hawke said. "Trust me when I say I understand how that feels."

Lavellan nodded, grateful for the sympathy. "After I disbanded the Inquisition I returned to my old clan for a while. They treated me like a stranger with my vallaslin gone. When I told them of all that had happened, they either branded me crazy or were disgusted that I could let Fen'harel slip by so easily. Solas had forever left a mark upon me, my bare face being a reminder of that to all other Dalish." Her mouth twitched from the reminder of such recent, unpleasant memories. "He took my vallaslin, he took my hand, and he took my heart. And now I must stop him from destroying the world at all costs, like a proper First should. I will not let him take the world from me too," Lavellan said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Like I said, Lavellan," Hawke implored, her eyes soft. "If you need me, I am yours."

Lavellan nodded, thankful.

Hawke and Lavellan drank deeply from their ales. A silence fell between the three of them once again before Varric decided to speak up. "A dwarf, a human, and an elf walk into a bar. What do they all have in common?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Their terrible love lives?" Hawke suggested.

"That involves being used and discarded by their ex-lovers?" Lavellan muttered.

"Bingo."

Hawke halfheartedly chuckled, while Lavellan was only able to offer a forced smile.

"We should start a broken hearts club. Lavellan can be our leader. Her ex-lover is actively trying to destroy the world after all. Hawke, you can be second-in-command since Blondie used you to start a bloody war. And me... well, I'll simply be a senior member, since Bianca accidentally helped supply Corypheus' army. Cheers." Varric raised his drink and the two women followed, before they all drank from their mugs.

"As second-in-command, I propose regular meetings here at the Hanged Man," Hawke slurred.

"I will allow it," Lavellan responded, with a subtle, amused smile.

Varric chuckled. "Wonderful! Once a week sounds great to me."

"Consider it done," Lavellan said, "while I'm still here, that is. When I must depart Hawke will assume command, and if she cannot, senior member Varric will."

"We'll need to do some recruitment," Varric commented. "If both you and Hawke are gone that just leaves me, and it's a bit sad if I'm only in charge of myself."

"We'll put up signs advertising it," Hawke promised.

"Perfect," Varric grinned.

 _Look at the three of us,_ Varric thought warmly, though perhaps the warmth came from the booze. _Three extraordinary people still held back and hurt by something as basic and human as love. We've accomplished so much, especially these two, that regular people view us above human woes. I think it was beneficial for all of us to finally talk about our ridiculous love problems. Varric glanced at Hawke and Lavellan, who were then smiling at each other with a new, deep understanding and sympathy of each other's similar experiences. Especially those two. I expect they will grow close, and I hope they can help each other heal._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit carried away with Hawke and Varric. They might have stolen the show a little, but it's hard for their epic bromance not to outshine everything else.
> 
> Picking out a personality for both Lavellan and Hawke was something I thought about. The Inquisitor's lines in DAI were much more passive than previous games. You could pick mildly diplomatic, mildly lighthearted, and mildly aggressive to seemingly give a less bipolar experience than picking between different personalities in DA2. So I wanted Lavellan to be portrayed as a bit more reserved. As for Hawke, I wanted to embrace all facets of Hawke's potential personalities, from Diplomatic, to Humorous, to Aggressive. I figured this could work since everyone has different facets to their personalities. Thus Hawke comes off as a much stronger personality.
> 
> This was my first Dragon Age fic, and I had fun with it because I absolutely love the characters. I hope to try writing more in the future. :)


End file.
